


expensive mistakes

by Anonymous



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dress Up, F/F, Pining, mentions of gabriel/mrs. agreste, sssort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14250666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Commanded by her boss to look after his fiancée, Nathalie finds herself taking care of Emilie's minor inconveniences.This is a much less ornery task than it has any right to be.





	expensive mistakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anthemyst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthemyst/gifts).



> //fingergunsssss hi my name is hallie and i never fucking learned how to characterize
> 
> hope you enjoy it anyway, alison ♥
> 
> (posted to the collection anonymously on my request)

"Na-a-a-athalie..."

Emilie had a talent for calling her name in a way that _should_ have grated, but didn't, Nathalie mused as she looked up.

Her boss's fiancée was beaming awkwardly, leaning against the doorway of her dressing room. "Could you help me for a second?"

Nathalie sighed and set down her book.

* * *

There really should have been someone here more qualified to assist Paris' top model than Nathalie (whose post-graduate work was in _library science_ , not fashion), but according to Emilie, they were all occupied.

Her red cheeks and nervous smile told Nathalie that that wasn't all there was to the story, but it wasn't much to Nathalie either way. Helping lace up someone's couture boots wasn't in her job description, but it wasn't exactly difficult.

The leather of the boot was butter-soft, but the laces were stiff, scratchy against her fingers, and it occurred to Nathalie that they were going to scrape the bare skin under the rivets once she started walking around. She wondered, idly, if anything should be done about that, but ultimately decided that Emilie would have told her if there was—and, anyway, who was Nathalie to trouble herself over the minor discomfort of others?

She still pulled the edge far enough out that threading it wouldn't give Emilie any undue rope burns, though.

"You're a life saver," Emilie sighed, delicate fingers curling around the edge of her seat and long curls curtaining her limpid green eyes. "I didn't realize these were so complicated until I'd already put on the corset."

Nathalie, focusing entirely on the slim calf in her hands so as not to look too much at said corset, merely blinked in acknowledgement.

It really was a very nice calf, perhaps almost as nice as the flesh pressing over the top edge of Emilie's corset, but it was still the safer of the targets for her attention.

"Ah," said Emilie, and then she was in Nathalie's space, those long curls close enough to brush Nathalie's cheek and fill her nose with the faintly perfumed scent of hairspray. "Those go around, back behind, like—... like that, yeah."

Nathalie tugged the rough lace out of the rivet with her finger behind it to guard Emilie's skin, then wound it back around her calf as instructed.

She found the lacing to be a simple enough task, but if one went by the awe in Emilie's voice, they'd think it something herculean.

"Man, you're even better at this than the wardrobe assistant."

"...Am I?" Nathalie asked when she was sure her voice would hold. Emilie was closer than she'd been prepared for.

"Yeah," said Emilie, and Nathalie didn't have to look up to feel the charming grin suddenly focused on her face. "Could you help me out of this thing later?"

Nathalie's lungs attempted to expand and contract at once.

"Wh-what?" she coughed. She prayed to every higher power that her face wasn't as red as it felt.

"You know, instead of the wardrobe assistant," Emilie said, glib, and Nathalie forced her pulse back down. "Gabriel wants you to keep me safe, right?"

"Right," Nathalie echoed, chest hollowing at the sound of her boss's name. She finished off the knot at the top of the boot. "If that's what you wish."

From Emilie's beaming smile, Nathalie gathered that it was.

"Thanks, Nath." A smacking kiss was laid on Nathalie's cheek, warm and waxy and damp, and Emile popped up off the bench, seven-centimeter heels _click-clunking_ on the dirty laminated flooring. "I'm off."

Nathalie remained kneeling in that position long after Emilie had left, rubbing the bright red stain she'd left behind between her fingers.

That was her boss's fiancée, her boss's fiancée, _her boss's fiancée,_ and _damn_ if Nathalie didn't hate Gabriel a little bit for it.


End file.
